My Ward
by FanFicLove101
Summary: Madam Pomfrey shares an insight to her mind with us, PP/MM pairing! Please R&R guys, this is my first Poppy!


_I don't own any of these characters_

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**My Ward.**

My name is Poppy Pomfrey. I am a healer, by trade and nature. My ward is my sanctuary, where I can excel myself the most and feel the comfort from the cleanliness. I spend my days here, by night I am in my quarters which is just off from the ward, but only because Albus insists on my resting. I am nurse and advisor to all at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; my job is my life.

But, there are times when I do detest the gift of which I have been blessed with. It is like instinct; nature has built into my soul to care for other people which consequently leaves me no time for myself. I often wonder what it would be like to switch off, be able to relax for just 5 minutes, to not think of the burden of the next wounded soul coming through the swinging doors of my ward. To be able to lie in on a Sunday morning, go swimming down the Great Lake and picnic in the grounds of this beautiful castle would be simply inexplicable for me.

The thing I loathe most about my job deals with affairs of the heart. My love, her tight bun and emerald robes, is patient and calm with me. She understands I cannot be with her always, that my duty is binding and I cannot leave my ward long. It makes me frustrated that she understands so, if she were to scream and fight and beg for my attention would be simpler: I hate it, so why must she find it so easy?

But that's Minerva for you.

"Calm, my dearest, relax." She will whisper in her deep and thick brogue, loosening my shoulders with a tentative squeeze as we sit in my chambers on this rare of occasions. I'm in angst and on edge; my ears pin-pricked ready to hear the all too familiar opening of the doors to my ward. She'll settle us down on the sofa in front of a blazing fire; her left arm wraps protectively around my shoulders and forces me to pull my eyes away from the direction of my ward and to rest on her ample bosom. And finally, with a sigh of relief, I close my eyes and rest heavily on the chest of my lover: Relaxed.

She sits with a book in hand, reading by the fire light. Every so often, she will silently levitate the novel to loosen her bun slightly due to a throbbing headache, I can asses, or to nibble at her nails, her slender fingers moving to her mouth and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I pull her hand gently away from her lips, and without so much of a blink nor taking her eyes away from the inked letters, she reaches for the book and is engrossed once more.

And it is that moment, right there, that I miss the most. That single second that I cannot spend every evening looking at her when she is like this. Minerva is not pretentious – She acts with someone as she would alone, and when I sit in my ward of sick patients thinking of the way she is, in that moment, it's all of my will that holds me back to run to her. I am my own enemy, I know this, and Minerva tells me so.

She begins to raise her hand to her mouth again when I replace it with my lips. She is taken by surprise and pulls away immediately, the book falling with a dull thud on the carpeted floor. For a moment I look at her and she looks back, the fire dances shadows across her elderly but smooth skin. She runs a cool knuckle across my cheek, and once again I lean in towards her and place a light kiss on her lips. I lean my forehead against hers while she plays with my hair, our eyes closed and our noses nuzzling. She silently stands and offers her hand, leading me to my bedroom. I let go of it, looking in the direction of my ward. In the doorway of my room, she asks,

"Are you coming?"

I turn and stare into her green pooled eyes, then, with one last look toward my ward, I answer "Yes, I am coming."

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It's nice to be looked after; I find it hard to be able to give in, let other people take care of me as I am so used to being the carer, but Minerva helps me to find that place in my body and heart. She makes love to me tenderly until tiny hours of the morning, her caressing kiss burning into my skin and leaving memories of unbridled physicality. I'm able to forget myself in those hours, and just be; not Madam Pomfrey, not even Poppy Pomfrey, just 'My Love'.

And I drag myself away, after only an hours sleep, to dress into my robes silently so as not to wake her. I leave her with a kiss, wrapping her up warmly in the feather duvet, hoping she knows that she is loved. I run to my ward, the haven I have been a mere 9 hours away from, to sigh annoyed and defeated. I pace the slick, shiny floor, my heels clicking throughout my ward. To busy myself, I light my office and peruse paper work, which I know I have completed in full. I tidy the beds a few times over and plump up pillows until the sun begins to rise and peep through the window. I cry, unashamedly, tears flowing down my face. My solitary life is one that I do not want, yet I leave my dearest one to have it. It is something I cannot escape, I'm afraid of losing the one thing that keeps me sane yet I can't control it. I try with all of my might, but I just can't...

"Come now, this won't do."

The soft voice comes from the swing doors, booted shoes clicking across my ward. She stops behind me, but I daren't look at her; it may break my heart. As her hand grips my arm, I hold tightly on too, feeling her warmth and her safety. I cling to every fibre I can feel; the cleanliness of my ward, the smoothing touch of her hand, the crisp whiteness of the sheets, the pureness of the suns rays now beating against the beds. My heart aches with want and hatred, yearning for nothing more than to be held and be left alone. I look up to the white ceiling, and bringing my apron to my eyes, I dab away the wetness that I stupidly let fall. I turn to smile at her as convincingly as I can, mentally patching up the small tears that have occurred around my heart since I'd woken. She smiles back, and leaves me be. I know when she sees me next in the privacy of our quarters, she will comfort me in full.

My ward is my sanctuary; my job is my life.

But my love, is everything.

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_A/N: Lemme know?_


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